“Now, what’s it all about, Saunders?” demanded Deppingham, with a wide yawn.  Saunders looked hurt.

“It is high time we were discussing some way out of our difficulties,” he said.  “Under ordinary circumstances, my lady, I should not have called into joint consultation those whom I may be pardoned for designating as our hereditary foes.  Especially Mr. Browne.  But, as my plan to overcome the obstacle which has always stood in our way requires the co-operation of Mr. Browne, I felt safe in asking him to be present.  Mrs. Browne’s conjugal interest is also worthy of consideration.”  Mrs. Browne sniffed perceptibly and stared at the speaker.  “But five weeks remain before our stay is over.  We all know, by this time, that there is little or no likelihood of the estate being closed on schedule time.  I think it is clear, from the advices we have, that the estate will be tied up in the courts for some time to come, possibly a year or two.  From authoritative sources, we learn that the will is to be broken.  The apparent impossibility of marriage between Lady Deppingham and Mr. Browne naturally throws our joint cause into jeopardy.  There would be no controversy, of course, if the terms of the will could be carried out in that respect.  The islanders understand our position and seem secure in their rights.  They imagine that they have us beaten on the face of things.  Consequently they are jolly well upset by the news that we are to contest the will in the home courts.  They are, from what I hear and observe, pretty thoroughly angered.  Now, the thing for us to do is to get married.”

He came to this conclusion with startling abruptness.  Four of his hearers stared at him in blank amazement.

“Get married?” murmured first one, then another.

“Are you crazy?” demanded Browne.  Britt was grinning broadly.

“Certainly not!” snapped Saunders.

“Oh, by Jove!” exclaimed Deppingham, relieved.  “I see.  You mean you contemplate getting married.  I congratulate you.  You gave me quite a shock, Saund—­”

“I don’t mean anything of the sort, my lord,” said Saunders getting very red in the face.  Miss Pelham looked up from her note book quickly.  He winked at her, and her ladyship saw him do it.  “I mean that it is high time that Lady Deppingham and Mr. Browne were getting married.  We haven’t much time to spare.  It—­”

“Good Lord!” gasped Bobby Browne.  “You are crazy, after all.”

“Open the window and give some air,” said Britt coolly.

“See here, Saunders, what the devil is the matter with you?” roared Deppingham.

“My lord, I am here to act as your legal adviser,” said Saunders with dignity.  “May I be permitted to proceed?”

“Rather queer legal advice, ’pon my word.”

“Please let him explain,” put in Mrs. Browne, whose sense of humour was strongly attracted by this time.  “If there is anything more to be learned concerning matrimony, I’d like to know it.”